


Sunshine In Your Smile

by MatchaMochi



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst and Fluff, Cultural Differences, Established Relationship, Intermittent Flashbacks, Language Barrier, M/M, Werewolf Mates, Werewolves, kind of, lame innuendos, lance has long hair, moon magic, pov switchin, travel & exploration, tribal!au, tulips in abundance, well half of it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-02
Updated: 2019-05-02
Packaged: 2020-02-16 01:41:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18681565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MatchaMochi/pseuds/MatchaMochi
Summary: “My ancestors used to go to the mountains with their mates to express their love for each other. They wouldn’t tell me if it was tradition or something they just did, or even something the gods used to do. It felt odd in my opinion, there are no flowers up there. Nor anything else for that matter.”(Where there are werewolves, flowers, and a way home.)Written for the Shance flower exchange 2019 ^^





	Sunshine In Your Smile

**Author's Note:**

  * For [griffonskies](https://archiveofourown.org/users/griffonskies/gifts).



> Hi Dana! So my flower gift for you are tulips XD 
> 
> Concerning the werewolves in this fic, I admittedly took a lot from teen wolfs way of interpreting them so; red eyes-alpha, blue-beta, yellow/golden-omega (which are lone wolves not attached to any pack, but they don’t turn feral in this one) and in this they can full as well as half shift to their wolf forms, though the full shift happens with the full moon.
> 
> Hope you like this!

The sky is pink, tinged with the light hues of the rising sun as it climbs steadily over the valley. The breeze is cool, stray winds from the heated night before, dawn gracing them with a softness that is unlike the moon from last night.

They’re under one of the huge trees. It’s leaves casting shadows on their bare skin, patterns that interwove with Lance’s bronze back, Shiro’s pale arm. Sleep has long since abandoned them since the light pooled down. Now they embrace each other in leisure, soft eyes and bruised lips, wandering hands and slow kisses.

Lance hums softly, pleased when Shiro runs his fingers through his hair. A sharp laugh cuts through the peaceful morning when Shiro playfully bites his ear. Lance snaps his teeth at him, grinning. His eyes flash, golden but it does not worry him. They’re already tethered to each after all.

Shiro nuzzles under his mate’s jaw and his mind wanders, remembers the time where he first heard that loud laugh.

-

_The winter here is nothing like the ones from where his clan once resides in. It’s harsh and biting, settling in deep to your bones, makes every breath he takes like shards of ice down his throat, stings the tip of his nose until they’re red._

_The trees here are different too, tall for one, and so much larger. Its bark touches the white sky with its branches, barely cradling the heavy snow that threatens to fall down every once in a while. Shiro brings his fur cloak closer to himself, then he grips his spear._

_His eyes are sharp, steady. He creeps slowly through the trees, taking note of any slight movement from the deer he has his eyes on. He stops when he gets close enough to throw, but far enough that it won’t notice him. He raises his spear, breathes out slow, warm air puffing out._

_A branch snaps from somewhere above him._

_The deer whips its head up to the sudden sound and just when Shiro starts to curse an arrow lodges at the deer’s neck. He blinks. He finds the utter silence when another arrow sails through the air and struck the deer disconcerting._

_The deer collapses, stains the white snow with red. It bleats out quietly as it dies but it’s obvious from here that the arrows were precise, true to its mark. Shiro quickly runs down to it, brings out his hunting knife, crouches down. He soothes it, shushes it as the blood sinks down the snow, and with a quick flick of his hand slits it’s throat._

_He hears a dull thump behind him, then, a low growl. Shiro turns around slowly, back straight and muscles coiled in tension, ready to run. The man across him stares at him warily, gripping a longbow edged with intricate symbols he does not recognize._

_His skin is dark brown like the trees around them, his eyes the colour of the sea he once admired when he was still with his tribe. There are blue markings painted under his eyes, on his cheeks, his forearms. A ring glints at him at his thumb, at his neck a sapphire stone is wrapped tightly at the centre. His hair is braided back, tufts of it sticking out at the front as another wind blows past them._

_His clothing is a lot of pelts with rough leather covering his torso, nothing over his arms. Shiro notes this carefully as the man walks closer to him slowly. He has a fur coat that borders on a dark earthy colour, unlike his grey-white one. And the cotton of his pants is supported by the leather belt on his waist. Shiro wears layers and layers of thin cloth and cotton, with wide sleeves and tightened with a belt. It’s the way of his clan, all the way from the eastern islands._

_Shiro tilts his head to the side, sniffs. He concentrates on the man’s heartbeat, their slow breathing. And with a hitch in his breath he realizes the man is like him; a child of the moon goddess, not a wolf but also not a man._

_He flashes his eyes at Shiro, fangs pulled down in a quiet snarl when Shiro flashes his eyes at him too. They’re both golden. Shiro feels a small relief, at least he won’t have to face a pack. It seems like he wasn’t the only one travelling alone._

_He doesn’t want to fight, if anything, Shiro wishes to leave without either one of them having to push their claws out. So, he grunts softly, places his knife on the ground, slow. The other stares at him for a while before he does the same with his bow._

_He walks up closer to Shiro until they’re face to face. He’s strong built, but more lithe compared to Shiro’s broad body. He whines softly at Shiro, in admission and perhaps peace. Shiro accepts it, doesn’t think too much about it when he bares his neck to the man, even as he hears a small gasp._

_They stare at each other for a moment before the man’s lips twitch, then he snorts, then he laughs brightly. It’s not mocking; he brushes the back of Shiro’s arm with his hands as he smiles, their scents mingling._

_Later, Shiro tries to tell the man that the deer was his, since it was his arrows that hit it first. But apparently, Shiro speaks a language he doesn’t recognize since he only stares at him in puzzlement, cocking his head questioningly._

_It doesn’t matter in the end, the man cuts the deer open and pushes half of it to Shiro, a small smile on his face. A little more later, as they get a fire burning, as the aroma of roasted venison wafts through, Shiro clears his throat, points to himself and says his name out loud, slowly, so that the other might understand._

_The silvered brass earrings Shiro wears are shaped like a metal ring with an obsidian ball, it shines in the firelight. He lets his long hair out before tying it back in a bun. It takes a while, but the man beams at him, eyes crinkling._

_“Lance.” He says, voice light._

_The sky is dark, the moon covered by the clouds that night. But the stars light up, guides him to where he might go, choices he takes in stride now. When he looks at Lance though, he hopes it won’t be alone._

-

They start to shiver a bit when another breeze passes by them, so they pull on their clothes with a bit of shuffling around. Lance still feels the adrenaline running through him from the night before though, so he doesn’t even try to dress properly or tie his belt securely before he howls to the sky and bounds down the valley.

It’s the peak of spring, and he revels in it. He’s barefoot, running down the hill, dirt and grass flying with how hard he stomps on them. He laughs in delight when he hears a distant howl from behind; Shiro is strong but he was never as fast as him. Lance runs and runs until he sees the plain of flowers stretching like a long yellow carpet under him.

Just when he tries to slow down, a heated body crashes down on him. He turns around but then Shiro pins him, his back to the ground, his hand on one of his wrists. He nips the tip of Lance’s nose and Lance snickers at him in reply. They kiss, lips meeting softly, deepening as they both moan when their tongues touch.

Shiro moves down, licking down his collar bone, sucking a kiss at their bondmark with quiet reverence. Lance breathes out shakily, reaches a hand out to stroke over a similar mark on Shiro’s nape, pressing down. He lets up and beams down at Lance.

Lance pecks his lips, whispers sweet nothings in his ear. The sunshine is warm on their skin, the wind makes the grass and flowers sway with its silent rhythm. The cloud parts for a new day.

-

_They hunt together now. Lance would climb the tall trees above them to search for game while Shiro would strike them down, weakened as they are with Lance’s arrows. They eat together, share their body heat together as the nights gets more frigid. They still don’t understand each other but Lance doesn’t mind, it’s mostly him who talks anyway. As they travel on the mountains and the rivers he chatters on, Shiro doesn’t seem too disgruntled about it, in fact, he smiles at Lance whenever he starts so he never actually stops._

_“The northern lights are a little ways from here. Don’t know if you have ever seen it before Shiro but I’ve been up there before and I swear at that moment I know if I’ve reached my arms out to those beautiful towering lights, I would’ve met the moon goddess herself,”_

_Or,_

_“Is your hair naturally that colour Shiro? Or do all your people have hair as pale as yours? Heh, you don’t understand me anyway but if it’s true then your people must have been blessed by whatever gods you believe in to spill their moonshine on you,”_

_And one time,_

_“I’ve been travelling alone for so long that the trees must think me mad for talking to them all the time. My pack used to frown down at me for being too noisy you know? Completely warranted of course, I always used to scare off our meal away,” a pause, “…. it’s nice. Having company. Hope you don’t get bored of me too soon Shiro.”_

_He perks up whenever he hears his names coming from Lance, would smile at him so softly Lance wouldn’t know what to say after that. Shiro talks too, short sentences that register nothing to him. A language completely foreign he wouldn’t have figured it out even if he tried._

_They make it work anyway, Lance would shoot for their next meal while Shiro would protect them for any larger predators prowling around the forest, or, gods forbid, any packs that might have caught their lingering scent._

_It feels like pack. His heart warms in that thought, though it twinges with sorrow whenever he remembers his old one. He stops venturing into that thought, instead ventured into the mystery that is his travelling companion. Who has earrings, one arm, and a spear that looks like it was made from the greatest craftsman, patterns that looked like dragons swirling around it. Lance finds that one strange; all the dragons he’d ever heard of had been malevolent and mad, this one seemed peaceful, wise._

_Shiro seems to take greater importance in his hair more than him too. He remembers a time where they stopped near a river and though it was still cold, the winter at that part of the forest was kind so they had stripped and bathed there. He recalls how careful he had been in washing his hair when Lance hadn’t even bothered to untie his braid._

_And also, a time where he’d been thinking of cutting a bit of his hair since it was getting too long for his liking. How he’d pulled his braid, raised his knife and was so ready to chop it off before there’s a sudden startled cry and he has a lap full of Shiro, distressed and whining mournfully at him as he shakes his head._

_‘No!’ he hears it in the way Shiro grips his wrist, in the way his eyes widen, pleading. ‘Don’t.’_

_So, he lowers his knife and nods placatingly. Shiro drops his hand down in relief, before he quickly gets off him, his face apologetic._

_After that, they tried to teach each other words of their people. Besides speaking with each other through wild hand gestures and over-expressive faces, they try stating out random words, their meaning, how you’d pronounce it._

_Lance would pull at Shiro’s cloak and point to one of the huge trees, its leaves growing steadily as winter slowly withdraws its clutch from it. He’d stare at Shiro with determination and say, “Árbol!”_

_He would laugh a couple of times as Shiro struggles to repeat the word back to him but Shiro replies in turn as he drinks from Lance’s lambskin flask and says, “Mizu,”_

_They go on like this, trading random words back and forth, repeating them back to each other. Lance feels him swell with pride whenever Shiro tells him a word he’d taught, and even if Lance fumbles with Shiro’s words, his tongue unfamiliar with its lilting twists, he would still smile warmly at Lance and say, “Sasuga!”_

_Weeks and months pass them by, and they walk on. Travelling through the thick forest that seems to go on forever. Lance has a suspicious thought that the sun god was tricking them somehow, keeping them trapped inside his forest for a reason he does not know._

_But Lance finds that he does not really mind, he isn’t alone, and every time the moon goddess bestows them her monthly gift of the full moon, he gets to feel it. Like currents pulling him in with Shiro, makes him think that even if he were to physically remove himself from Shiro he doesn’t think he’ll make it. He wants to say its pack, but it runs deeper than that, something whispered from the stories his elderlies would tell him once every night._

_He doesn’t know if it’s the same for Shiro though, so he keeps quiet about it. Shifts every time the moon is full to run with Shiro down the forest. Scenting him, again and again, to make sure that their bond is as solid as the ground under his feet, the sky above his head._

_There is one night though, where Lance is busy tending to the rabbits they’ve caught. As the fire had just started to radiate its warmth to his cold hands, he puts the meat over it, humming quietly to himself._

_“Lance.”_

_He jumps, startled. Reprimands himself for it too. He should’ve heard Shiro’s heartbeat from a mile away, with how it was rapidly going right now. Lance wipes off some of the blood and looks at Shiro questioningly._

_His nose had always had a brush of redness on it with how pale he was, though Lance doubts the red flushing to his ears was from the cold. Lance blinks slowly, takes a step back when Shiro suddenly shows the flowers bunch up together in his hand that he’s been hiding from behind him._

_He blinks again. Looks at Shiro, looks back at the flowers. Tilts his head to the side. “Flores amarillas?” He does not understand this at all; it must be some kind of gift, but must he reciprocate? What does it mean even? He’d always seen these kinds of yellow flowers before, tulipanes weren’t that special of a flower._

_Shiro looks queasy now, shuffling to the side. “Kimi wa…” he grunts in apparent frustration. Then he looks to the flowers, then to Lance. It’s quiet for a moment._

_“Um…what...?”_

_Shiro does it again, now putting more emphasis on him, pointing down to his chest insistently, ruffling the flower’s petals._

_“….me?”_

_He beams at Lance, and he takes Lance’s hand in his carefully, clasping them together with the flowers. Then, then suddenly he can’t breathe. If only for a second anyway._

_It was as if the moment their skin touched; he’d understood perfectly what Shiro was trying to tell him. A wandering feeling of longing and hope at the tip of his tongue when he feels the warmth coming off from Shiro._

_Lance strokes the petals carefully, eyes misty._

_“These flowers…. reminds you of me?”_

_He can’t explain it, that moment when their eyes struck. As if Shiro understood what he just said, as if there wasn’t any barrier between them at all. There’s a quiet rumble going down from his chest, Lance steps closer to Shiro, tips his chin up and presses his lips on Shiro’s cheek. Just a soft peck._

_Lance feels the quick intake of breath on his face, flutters his eyes close when he feels the hand cupping his cheek, and readies for-_

_A sudden crackle interrupts them, and Lance abruptly remembers about the food they were supposed to be eating. He pulls away from Shiro, smiling sweetly as he chirps, “Taberu, taberu!”_

_They settle down for the night, the lingering tension simmering down to a quiet ember. Lance has placed the flowers carefully beside his bow, wonders how long they would last before it wilts. and when they eat together in content silence Lance stares at the glittering stars above them and say,_

_“My ancestors used to go to the mountains with their mates to express their love for each other. They wouldn’t tell me if it was tradition or something they just did, or even something the gods used to do. It felt odd in my opinion, there are no flowers up there. Nor anything else for that matter.”_

_He sings a quiet tune after that; wishes he has his siblings to sing along with him. Shiro hums along though, and his heart warms with it, rushes down to the tips of his fingers, makes his toes curl in his shoes._

_He’s sure Shiro still doesn’t understand but he rubs their cheeks together before holding him close as they rest for the night. And when Lance feels the soft kiss pressed on his forehead as he nestles close to Shiro’s chest, he knows it doesn’t matter._

-

There’s a patch of red flowers around the side of the valley too. Lance rolls around the grass for a while before he spots it. Shiro was away taking back all the prey they caught from last night, as well as their other supplies. Lance hums as his hand brushes through the deep red petals. He plucks one up from its roots with a grin.

When Shiro comes back he dumps a red and yellow flower crown on his head with glee. His long hair let down from the braid is messy with petals caught in them. The sunshine makes Shiro’s glow silver in the light.

He only laughs back at Lance in reply, before he gives him another kiss.

-

_Shiro will never forget the night before they mated. The leaves were red and orange, floating down to the ground as it sheds for autumn, readying for the next winter. The night air was unusually warm, the clouds few, making way for the beaming light of the moon._

_He and Lance had shed their clothes, howled together to the stars as their skin moves, bones snap, fur sprouting out. Their eyes flash, fangs dropping, tails brushing the leaves on the earth. And they would hunt together as they’ve always done, except now it’s with claws and teeth, all their senses heightened as they smell the sharp scent of snow, the heated scent of deer and stag, rabbits and squirrels, bears and boars. The sound they make, their heartbeats._

_They’d run together too, just for the sake of it. Would snap at each other playfully as Lance runs circles around Shiro as he tries to catch Lance. Shiro’s fur is grey-white but looks silver in the moonlight. He loves Lance’s fur more, a gradient of earthy tone as it turns lighter at the tip of his tail._

_He gets to nuzzle Lance now, show his affection as he pushes his snout at the underside of Lance’s belly. He yips at Shiro, an imitation of his usual giggle. Shiro feels surprised and happy every time he’s reminded that he gets to have Lance like this, closer than pack, closer than he’d ever been with his own clan._

_He doesn’t know when it happens, but he remembers that he was running with Lance, wind in his fur, leaves flying out from behind them, the trees whipping past. The adrenaline in his veins as Lance howls excitedly into the sky and then suddenly, a flash and-_

_‘Yes yes yes!’_

_Images flashes behind his eyes, creeps in his mind like the sound of Lance’s laughter, huge mountain ranges with its peaks touching the clouds, fire, dance, and music thrown together with the gathering of people around a huge bonfire. Their skin as if kissed by the warm earth, marked with paintings of blue, green, and white, the fire spurting out multitude of colours that rivals anything he’d ever seen before._

_‘My people,’ he hears whispered through the edges of his vision, ‘my tribe.’_

_There’s a shift in the air, his breath stills. Then it comes back again,_

_‘Yours?’_

_So, he closes his eyes, embraces the feeling of warm winds and sweet scents and shows it to Lance._

_‘Cherry blossoms, blue skies,’ he sings into the feeling, ‘Lakes, mountains, seas,’ and it flows through their bond as he finally understands that this is yet another gift from the moon goddess; a chance to understand without struggling to explain, to connect with feeling and so much more._

_‘My clan has swords they use to defend themselves. My family is fond of the cats that would climb up our roofs. I miss the sweet delicacies my mother would cook for us sometimes,’_

_He howls for the second time, this one in sorrow and regret. ‘I lost them in a pack fight. Lost my arm, lost my way, lost my heart.’_

_He whines low, a pitiful sound._

_‘I am broken, I am damaged.’_

_A growl rips through the air at that. They’ve stopped running, Lance nips the tip of his ear, before pushing his snout to Shiro’s neck. They stay like that for a while, breathing in each other, taking comfort in it._

_Then Lance licks at him, howls lowly to the sky before he looks at Shiro. ‘No.’ He stares pointedly at Shiro again before he looks back at the sky. And its only then he realizes just what Lance was pointing at._

_‘You are whole,’ he says as he howls to the bright, full moon._

_‘Full, complete,’ Lance pushes to him, nuzzling into his neck as if attempting to kiss it,_

_‘Perfect.’_

_The next morning, as they lay together in their tent, Shiro kisses and kisses Lance until he can’t breathe. Then he licks into his mouth, panting through it, saturated with their scent. Lance sighs in pleasure as he pulls in Shiro to his neck, bites his jaw and whispers, “Mi amor, mi amor,”_

_They make love, finally completing their bond as they give each other the bondmark. Shiro feels warmth running from his nape as he sinks down in the feeling of Lance; his smell, his heartbeat, his voice. He runs his fingers to the mark on Lance’s skin, soft as feathers on the fresh scar as the skin slowly knits itself together._

_As Lance slips into slumber, Shiro sings the song he remembers from the night before, just as the myriad of colours that climbed the sky paints itself in pink and orange with the new dawn._

-

They’re usually moving during this time of the day, but Lance feels content and lazy as noon brings its heated sunshine down on the grassy plains they laid on. Shiro feels relaxed enough to indulge him so he only sighs when Lance pouts at him when he tells him to get up.

Instead, he sits, laid back beside Lance and spoils him with the soft press of lips on his nape, mouths down the long column of his neck. Lance preens in reply, tilting his head to the side as his long hair moves wildly with the warm breeze.

Later, Lance takes out his razor and turns to Shiro. Hums steadily as he grooms the straggly beard growing at Shiro’s chin. And when he’s clean shaven, Shiro would comb through Lance’s hair, they’d braid them back together. Shiro would wound it around his head to make it into a crown, a pleased rumble coming from his chest when Lance would beam back at him.

The day is not quiet; there are bees, the wind, the chattering of animals in the forest behind them, the scratching from the trees as its branches touch, but it’s peaceful. Just over the horizon, there are dark shadows that give the imprints of large giants lying down for a moment's rest.

Lance stares off in the distance, and he remembers the mountains where his tribes had stayed, where he had run away from, years ago.

-

_They’ve advanced to solid sentences; Lance actually knows half of what Shiro is saying now. They still majorly use hand gestures but that’s mainly when they hunt to not scare the animal away. The bonding between them helps a lot too, but now they switch words occasionally, and every time Lance feels particularly chatty, he’d try to throw out words in Shiro’s tongue just to see if they turned out how he wanted it to be. Shiro laughs at him mostly, but he does the same when Shiro tries too so he doesn’t really mind._

_There comes a moment though, where no words could come out to tell Shiro just how he felt._

_They were hunting again, a boar this time. They’ve been tracking it down ever since they caught up with its scent. Lance’s arms were steady, his aim true. He takes in a breath, lets it out. It’s child play, the boar in his exact line of sight for him to strike. He shoots and he- he misses._

_He quickly notches another arrow, where the first one had alerted the boar to their presence, causes it to huff wildly, starts to run. Lance starts to run too; his second shot misses though. And his third and fourth. As he fumbles through the fifth, he’s breathing rapidly, chest tight with frustration. He aims but its too late, the clearing is empty except for his wasted arrows._

_He can hear its heartbeat in the distance, but its scent was already fading away. It was, it was supposed to be easy. Lance was supposed to catch it because he’d told Shiro that it’d be easy, that he could handle it because he’s- he’s strong and able to provide._

_Lance swallows thickly, his throat tight. He was supposed to prove that he was able to protect and kill for him, them. His, his pack. This was exactly the kind of thing that led him to leave them, wasn’t it? The gods had cursed him the moment he was unable to protect his own brothers and sisters, as his tribe was invaded. He let his siblings die because he was weak! Because he couldn’t maintain the barrier, his claws too blunt, his movements too slow._

_He’d run away from the aftermath because he sees the way his chief looks at him; the one that survived because he wasn’t brave enough to die in glory, the one that’s left because he wasn’t strong enough to protect the others. For gods sakes, he couldn’t even get food for his own mate-_

_He screams in anger, snarling as he hits the ground with his fist. He’s useless, wasn’t that why he left in the first place? He sobs it out in anguish, wishes the earth would just swallow him whole and be done with it._

_It seems like forever, but moments later he feels Shiro’s broad hand covering his. Shiro pulls him in as he tugs Lance closer to him. Soothes him as he cries into his shoulder._

_“Why?” Shiro tries to ask between his hitching breath, “Why sad?” his accent sounds charming to Lance whenever he says something in his language._

_He shakes his head, biting his lip._

_“I’m, I,” he mumbles, “I’m weak, I’m a coward, I-” He’s not making any sense he knows this, they’ve been practising but he never taught Shiro any of those words. He fears it might be true._

_Shiro stills suddenly though, he holds Lance’s hand in his, places them on his chest and he says, “Kokoro,” places it on Lance’s rapidly beating heart and tries to say,” C-c_ _orazón_ _” his eyes steady._

_“Same,” he says to Lance, “You, me. Just same, I-” He sighs, shakes his head and tries again, “I. Just. Just you.” His hand tightens on Lance, “Just you…. full?”_

_Lance gets it now, and it crashes down on him like a wave, threatens to pull another tear from his stinging eyes. He smiles at Shiro anyway, even if it was more of a grimace._

_“No, not full.” He closes his eyes, “’ Enough,’ that’s what you wanted to say right?”_

_He nods at Lance quickly, smiling cautiously, “Just you.” He says again._

_“Just you.”_

_He feels his heart speeds up, then it settles as Shiro lets him lay down on his chest. Relief washes through him, his shoulders lighten. As if he could just float away if he had wings._

-

Its time like this that they tell each other about their people. They’d stare at the clouds above as it strays away and Shiro would say,

“The wolves of the Ezo clan has pale grey furs, unlike mine. I used to have the same, but something changed, over the years. Our people were known for their strength and our swordsmanship. It had been many years since any other took over.”

“I have never seen you carry a sword,”

“Mine is gone, left in the ashes.”

“Oh, not completely I’m sure,” Lance smirks at him, glancing down.

His face burns red as Lance cackles. Shiro bites the tip of his ear for that, pinches his cheeks as he giggles. “You.” He huffs, pecks Lances nose, “You are just like a _Kitsune_ sometimes.”

“And what’s that?”

“A fox spirit that dwells in the forest. They are beautiful,” he looks pointedly at Lance, “as well as mischievous.”

“You think me beautiful?”

“Interesting that you choose to ignore the latter,” Shiro mutters.

“Why thank you, my mate,” Lance preens at him before he smacks a quick kiss to Shiro’s triceps, where he was laying his head down on. “If I am a fox then you must be _Gegants_ , so strong and noble,” Lance sticks his tongue out, “and a bit big headed too,”

“Am I?”

“No, not really,”

“What about strong and noble?”

“Try again,”

Lance shrieks with laughter when he gets a raspberry at his belly for that. Then he gets a tingling bite at his hip, which turns into soft kisses down his thighs. Much, much later after their sweat cools off and they are suitably sated, Lance says,

“The Iberi tribe were nomads. We always tend to wander through the ranges or the seas. Every time we leave, we’d sacrifice something to the goddesses of the wind and earth so they could give us safe passage to our next dwelling. We honour the dead by fire and dance. Paint our skin with the colours of heaven.”

He takes a moment to whisper a prayer, to his lost loved ones, and luck to the ones still living. Then,

“They named me after the weapon they’ve always considered lucky. Perhaps that is why I’ve always felt I had to be the strongest, the smartest, the wisest.” Lance snorts, “I am not any of that though and that’s _fine,_ ” He quirks his lips up to Shiro, presses a kiss on his forehead, “I’m just fine.”

Shiro hesitates before he asks, “Do you not want to meet them again?”

Lance shrugs, “Someday maybe. Just to see how they’re doing.” He snuggles back into Shiro, “But I’ll always stay with you.”

The sun moves through the sky, the clouds gather. Shiro kisses the tight, white bracelet clinging around Lance's thin wrist. Lance buries his face in Shiro’s neck where a cool sapphire necklace sat, and where he can feel the calm thumping of his heart underneath his hand.

-

_They marry beside the warmth of the wild sea. It was something they haven’t really thought about ever since their bonding. But as their connections grow, as they switched languages as effortlessly as if it was their own, they felt that they wanted to be tied together like that too; with their own traditions and culture._

_So, they wait for the coming of the full moon, makes space on the soft sand for a large fire. That evening, after they’ve washed and groomed, after they’ve decorated their clothes with random shells and pearls, they dance around the fire, their voice rising in symphony, a song of love and happiness._

_Then, Shiro kneels down, lets his hair out from the bun but still tied so it brushes his elbows. He takes out his knife, places it beside the knot, and with a sharp intake of breath from Lance, cuts his hair off. Lance whines softly as he steps down to take the strands._

_He knows it was part of the ceremony, but he mourns its loss, nevertheless. He handles them gently, his fingers nimble as he collects the silver threads and ties them into a braid. They tie it over his wrist together, and they kiss, hands shaking and hearts trembling._

_They’re nervous but Lance continues, baring his neck to Shiro. He carefully takes the collar off, his skin pale underneath for he’d never taken it off for anything besides the moon shift, and even then, he sometimes hesitates. The sapphire stone was given to him since birth from his mothers, it signifies everything he is, everything they hoped for him to be. But Shiro had cut a part of himself for him, so he can certainly do the same._

_The shining blue looks good on Shiro, and he can’t help himself from biting softly at Shiro’s neck from the sight._

_It’s the goat’s blood next, but first, they must go back to the cave that overlooks the sea, where they decided to take shelter in. They build another fire, the orange lights making flickering shadows on the cave walls. They dip two fingers in crimson and traces it on each other’s cheeks._

_The blood covers their whole hand next, and they place their palms to the rough stone wall, next to each other. Their lips meet again, and they embrace in the heat of their own passion, pulling off their clothes in haste._

_Soon, the full moon shines its light into the cave, pooling down on them as it spills on their shifted fur. Large paw prints join the ones of their human counterpart on the wall, and they howl in elation from their shared union._

_The next day, they start moving again. They travel to a new place each time, the sweltering desert tundra, the humid forests, the icy plains. They don’t care where they might end up because they know in their hearts of hearts, that they’re already home together._

-

The sun is setting now.

The wind does not relent though. As the sky dips into the inky blackness of night, as it spills its dark orange light into the clouds, they can still see the tulips swaying, Lance’s long hair moving with it. Shiro smiles and he says,

“Let’s go see the mountains.”

 

- _fin-_

**Author's Note:**

> RIP Shiro's hair, you will be remembered T_T ahem, so I chose tulips because I loved that the red and yellow had different meanings, yellow being ‘Sunshine in your smile’ and red being ‘Passion, declaration of love’. I took three of the prompts, which were ‘travel and exploration, werewolves, and established relationship’. The tribalAU came out of nowhere I am so sorry I have absolutely no impulse control. 
> 
> But now that its done anyway I can safely say that nope the clans and tribes mentioned aren’t based on any particular existing one, they’re totally fictional, I’ve taken the liberty to mix, mash, and tweak it a bit to suit the story. 
> 
> Though Shiro’s was obv inspired from japan, only little details were based on the Ainu people (his earrings/’ninkari’), Lance’s tribe was totally made up! The Gegants he mentioned was large figures typical of the processions in Catalan Festa Majors, which is totally ahead of their time but meh.
> 
> Lance’s archers ring is based on the ancient roman and medieval ones, yeah wow I’m really just playing around my sandbox with this one lol
> 
> The marriage ritual they did was made up too even if the decision to cut off shiro’s hair pained me, so much. The wolves they turn into is the Ezo wolf and the Iberian wolf, also the names of their tribes, though I made them larger and with different colouring. 
> 
> Here are some translations (mind u I used google so any mistakes are completely mine, if there’s any don’t hesitate to tell me!):
> 
> Árbol – tree  
> Mizu – water  
> Sasuga - I am impressed  
> Flores amarillas – yellow flowers  
> Tulipanes – tulips  
> Kimi wa – you  
> Taberu – eat  
> Mi amor - my love  
> Kokoro – heart  
> Corazón – heart
> 
> Hmmm I think that’s it, if I missed anything feel free to ask down in the comments! I had huge fun writing this hope y’alls enjoyed it :3
> 
> I have a [twitter](https://twitter.com/crazydurians)! and check out my other [fics](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MatchaMochi/works) too! 
> 
> Comments and kudos are highly appreciated!


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